The colors say fall is here.

 

I would love these colors more if they didn't say to us "hurry, snow is coming".
Photo by O. Ned Eddins, all rights reserved.

The trees are like a symphony in motion. The bright yellows are sopranos - the flutes, and the oranges are the tenors, while the dark evergreens are the bass. I talk to little Mary Jane about the songs the trees are singing to us, and she laughs and pats my face and nods as if she understands every word. She is such a joy, now that her tooth has come in. We are going nowhere today, not because of a breakdown, but because our father is adamant about some things, and honoring Sunday is one of them. He says the cattle need rest as much or more than we do.

After I serve the breakfast of corn bread and beans with bacon, we gather to sing and hear James read the Bible. He begins with Psalm 92:

 It is a good thing to give thanks unto the LORD, and to sing praises unto thy name, O most High:

2To shew forth thy loving kindness in the morning, and thy faithfulness every night,

and then he turns to Romans 11:

 O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!

I look over at my  brother Edward, and as our eyes meet, I realize we are thinking the same thing: how it is beyond our understanding, that our mother was taken from us.

We need the peace of this day, and the rest.